Choices
by Sophia2012
Summary: We make thousands of choices each day: tea or coffee? Bagel or croissant? But sometimes, one choice can change our lives. Neal/Sara post judgement day.
1. Chapter 1

Even though a day had passed since, Sara still got tingly at the sight of it. In fact, she could hardly leave her office yesterday and barely sleep last night, somehow worried that it was all just a dream. That yesterday never happened and that Rapheal's 'Saint George and the Dragon' was not in fact in her office at the time. This morning she woke up too early and skipped her coffee and bagel ritual just so she could get to her office that much sooner.

But, here she was, standing in front of the beautiful painting, still feeling tingly. It was not just the art that had caused her good mood, it was the history behind it: The painting had been around for over half a century and of all people in the world _she_ was lucky to be part of what can only be a rich history.

Another half century later, people would talk about the infamous con man who's true identity was to that day never discovered. About how he stole the painting as an act of love. About how there was another woman determined to recover the painting and return it to their rightful owners. They would speak of how the con man and the bounty hunter had been enemies for years because of a painting. And how it was that same painting that had abled them to grow closer and eventually become lovers.

This painting had been hovering this world for 506 years and Sara was lucky enough to be involved in the last six years of it's existence. The contentment she felt was written all over her face and the smile it caused was almost irremovable.

It was still early and there was almost no one in the office. Sara knew she had to go and get her breakfast, or at least her much needed dose of caffeine, to get through the day. She took one last look at the painting, straightened her skirt and turned to walk over to her desk to grab her purse.

She was halfway to the door when she saw him flying out of the elevator and running towards her office. Within seconds he slammed the door open and was standing in front of her, breathless, gasping for air. He looked tired, but not the kind that was caused by sleep deprivation, she's never seen him look so… vulnerable. Hurt, even.

"Neal, what's-" she started to ask but was soon cut off.

"Good, you're here," he panted, "I went by your place and no one was there."

"Neal? What's going on? What, did the board make a decision?"

"Come with me?"

"Okay, where?"

"No, I mean, run away with me?"

"_What_? What are you talking about? You can't run away just cause they decided not to commute your sentence, you've only got two more years left!"

Neal had already started shaking his head before Sara even finished her sentence, but as he was still trying to recover his breathing, he couldn't stop her.

"It's not that. It's Kramer."

"Not again! Does that guy never stop?" Sara made no effort to hide the annoyance towards the man in her voice.

"No. This morning I was confident, I was gonna say what I had to say to the board. I had made up my mind, commutation or not, I was staying. But as I was approaching the building I saw Kramer. He had Marshalls with him and he was talking to Peter. Peter spotted me and told me to run."

"Wait, what? Peter? He _told_ you to run?"

"Not exactly, it was more of a look."

Sara raised her eyebrow: "A look?" she asked skeptically.

"A signal. Look, I don't have time to explain, it's only a matter of minutes before they find me. I have to go, _now_," he emphasized, he then took a moment to try and read her mood. He had to take a shot if he wanted her to run with him.

"Come with me."

She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something about seeing Neal this way that caused strange emotions to bloom out of the pit of her stomach. She's never seen him this vulnerable, honest…unlayered. It caught her off guard.

"Neal, I…-"

"Elizabeth once told me that there is a difference between loving someone and loving the idea of them. At the time, I didn't understand. And then you told me that I'm living a daydream. It has taken almost four years in prison, two years on a leash and a commutation hearing for me to realize that you two were right. I have been living a dream. I don't wanna do that anymore. I want to live a life. And I know it's a lot to ask, but I'd like you in that life."

Though confusion still clouded most of her mind, the swelling of her heart had forced room for sympathy and maybe even affection. Sara thought she'd known... 'love' - if you will, but this was different. It was a strong urge to comfort the man in front of her who was so obviously hurt and conflicted. It was an urge almost too strong to fight, but as seconds ticked away, reason came to her and she remembered her vow to never make decisions based on emotions.

She let out a shaky breath, "Neal, I have a life. And I'm living it. Here."

"So, that's a no?"

Through a haze, Sara read the hurt in his eyes and the betrayal on his face, and that's when she realized that tears had been forming in her eyes. She didn't trust her voice to speak so she confirmed his words with a slight shake of her head.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then. For good."

Sara let go of a breath that weighed heavy on her, placed her hand on his cheek and leaned in closer. It was when she kissed him briefly that she tasted the salt of her tears.

"Goodbye, Caffrey."

He gave a short nod, teeth clenched and jaw tight, and then turned around, causing Sara's hand to fall back to her side. The door closes and she watches him leave through her office window. Maybe for good.

* * *

Please, pleeassee review!

And should I continue or not?


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews! Love em!

Please don't forget to leave your thoughts for this chapter! ;-)

Soph

* * *

Having Neal disconnected from her life by thick, metal elevator doors was not the last image of him Sara wanted to remember, so when Neal stepped into the elevator, she turned away in time before the doors closed. She was now facing the Raphael painting that was resting – peaceful, almost seeming smug – on an easel, just a few feet away from her. A painting with a history that - just five minutes ago - she was a part of.

Five minutes ago, Sara had imagined how people would speak of her and Neal as unlikely lovers brought closer by it. Now, if people would speak of her at all, they would speak of how he left but she was the one who abandoned him.

Is that what she wanted? To be remembered as the woman who lived and empty life? One who was fearless, adventurous and feisty, but only on paper? One who was too afraid to be brave and bold when it mattered?

"Yeah…" she mused softly to herself as she realized she wasn't too happy with the answer to those questions: No, of course not. But taking this giant step went against every single rule she had made for herself and honored so honestly for so many years.

"Ok," she encouraged herself, all the while realizing she was actually talking to herself right now, "let's do it."

She picked up her purse from the floor and ran to the stairway of the Sterling Bosch office building. She stopped for a second when she reached the first staircase to kick off her high heals. She quickly bent to pick them up and lift her tight, off-white, pencil skirt as high as it would go up her thighs. There were so many things she wanted to before she left. So many things she wanted to take with her. So many people she wanted to say goodbye to. But she knew there was no time. Neal had a good thirty-second head start and even if she hurried as fast as she could, she didn't know if she would ever catch up on him.

Sara raced down the stairs and as soon as she reached the ground floor she spotted the back entrance door click in it's lock, just in time. She pushed herself to go faster and almost violently pushed the door open, only for it to bounce back almost immediately, after it hit something.

"Ow!" she heard someone object to the pain the force of the door had caused.

Sara gasped in shock and stepped away from behind the door, "Are you ok- Neal?" she asked surprised, he was the last person she expected to stand right outside the door

"Sara?"

"What are you.." she started but stopped herself as Neal was still rubbing the now red spot on his forehead, "God, I'm so sorry, I had no idea you were out here. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "I'll survive."

"Here, let me, " she stepped closer and put the back of her hand on Neal's forehead, "cold hands, remember?" She let out a short, awkward laugh and hoped he wouldn't notice the effect their close proximity had on her.

"Right," his lips formed a smile at the memories.

"What were you doing here?"

"I almost stepped out of the alley when I saw a Marshall across the street. I don't think he saw me, I'm not even sure he's here for me, but I figured I'd better hide out here till he's gone," he explained, never leaving her gaze, and then he remembered: "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Chasing you," she admitted.

"Why?" He tried to hide it, but the bubbly feeling of hope that had formed inside him had expressed itself in a half smile on his face.

Sara's eyes copied Neal's and turned brighter with excitement, "I'm coming with you."

"Are you sure?" he put his hand over hers and lowered it down from his forehead, holding it between them, "Sara, there is no coming back after this."

She nodded, "I know, I know. But… I don't wanna play it safe anymore. Playing it safe means death threats on a daily base. It means being surrounded by ungratefulness and pettiness. I wanna take a risk. A _real _one this time."

Neal hesitated for a second. Wasn't he being too selfish?

"Neal, don't worry about it. Let's go!"

"Alright," he decided, "Let's go see if that Marshall's still out there."

They reached the edge of the alley and Neal gently pushed Sara behind him. With their backs pressed to the wall he tried to scan the crowd and search for the agent.

"Wait," Sara interrupted his concentration, "That's Mr. Bosch' dry cleaning delivery service."

"So?"

"So… he has a van."

"Smart," he complimented, "but how are we going to cross the street without being noticed and how do we make sure the deliverer doesn't spot us?"

Sara shrugged easily as she made sure not to make eye contact with Neal: "He likes me."

Neal rolled his eyes, "Of course he does."

"Okay, you wait here, I'll go chat him up and see if Ricky's feeling flirty today."

"Seriously?" Neal raised his eyebrow at Sara before focusing his attention back at the tall, muscular, spray-tanned and dark haired man right outside the van, "Ricky? _That's_ his name?"

"What are you looking like that at me for? I'm not his mother."

"Fine," he gave in, but not without sighing obviously in discontent, "I'll wait."

Sara took a moment to straighten her skirt, she shook out her hair and made sure her off-white stilettos were clean. She look down to make sure everything was in place and decided last minute to open another button on her blouse.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Mr. Caffrey, jealousy is a deadly sin."

"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure vanity is somewhere on that list too," he spat back.

"Oh please, like you're one to talk." She stepped out of the alley before giving Neal a chance to reply. She knew it was going to be awkward, having to flirt with Neal watching her every move. She could almost feel his eyes burning in the back of her head.

"Oh hey Ricky! Good morning." she called out for his attention as she was approaching him.

"Mm, good morning indeed," his low and heavy voice alone was a disgusting thing to listen to without his eyes looking her up and down. She knew immediately that he was undressing her in his mind as he's been doing since the first time she met him.

"How are you?" She asked politely, making sure she wouldn't get too close.

"Good, now that you're here." He scanned her up and down once more and ended his sentence with a wink. Gross.

"Oh, you're such a flirt!" Sara spat out in the most girly voice she could muster. She just hoped and prayed that the city noises would prevent Neal from hearing this conversation.

"Guilty as charged," he laughed while throwing his hand up in mock defeat, "So what's up honey, whatcha doin?"

Sara took a step closer, put her hand on his upper arm and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I need your help."

"Ooh, interesting. What can I do for you and how much would you appreciate that, huh?"

"You see, my friend and I are being followed by this psycho-"

"Oh you need me to beat 'm up for you?" Sara saw how the excitement spread across his face as he bumped his fist into the palm of his other hand, "Then maybe you and your little friend could thank me, huh?" he winked.

It took all she had to suppress the shiver that ran down her spine at those words. Gross. Again.

"No, no! No beating anybody up. I was just wondering if you could park your van right in front of that alley right there," she turned to point towards the alley and could see how annoyance was spread all across Neal's tightened face. She quickly shot him an apologetic look before turning back to Ricky, "and then we could get in without him noticing?"

"Whoa, whoa wait," Ricky put his hands up and backed away, "you didn't tell me your little friend was a _dude_!"

Crap.

"Oh, what, _him_?" she tried to laugh it off, "Oh God no! He's gay."

Ricky contemplated that for a second and then stepped closer again. "Alright then. What's in it for me?"

Sara leaned in again, "Don't worry, you won't be disappointed," she whispered in his ear.

Ricky beamed up and hit his fist in his palm again. "Alright, I can do that. I'll be there in a minute."

"Thank you so much." Sara gave him a little wink before turning around on her heels and making sure Ricky had something good to look at.

"I'd rather have lemon juice sprayed into my eyes than to ever witness something like that again," Neal objected, "I thought douches like that only existed in classless movies."

"Yeh? Well that's cause you men generally don't have to deal with douches like that. Another burden us women take off your plate."

"Well, I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience." Neal spat back sarcastically, not quite ready to be sympathetic yet.

"Would you focus? He's gonna park the van here, we can get in and get to June's without anybody noticing," she took a look at her watch and saw that it was already 7 am, "what time did you have your meeting with the board today?"

"8:30."

"So that gives us about an hour and a half before they actively start looking for you. You did say they were waiting for you at the FBI building right?"

"Yes, but I don't know if Kramer's willing to wait that long. We have to move quick, can't take any risks. I have an emergency bag packed at June's. I'm sorry but we can't stop by your place to pack."

"That's okay, I can buy everything I need on the road."

"I think I have few new toothbrushes and there's still some of your stuff in my bathroom, so-"

"You never got rid of it?"

He looked up, surprised by her question. He never thought much about it, but now that she mentioned it…

"No, I guess I haven't."

She didn't know what that meant exactly, but whatever it was, it caused her to feel warm inside. She took his hand in hers and rubbed the back of it affectionately, "That's..."

Their moment was interrupted by the van closing the exit of the alley. Sara quickly let go of Neal's hand and when he looked at her in surprise she quickly whispered: "By the way, you're gay."

For the second time, she didn't give Neal a chance to reply as he was standing there, almost in shock as to what he heard. She quickly got into the back of the van to avoid whatever objection he was about to give her.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys,

Thank you so much for the kind reviews!

And sorry for the delay! I think I bit off a bit more than I can chew with three stories and a fulltime internship. BUT as a way of thank you, I wrote an extra long chapter. Hope you guys can be patient with me in the future, I'd hate to lose you.

Please remember to review. Thnx!

Soph

* * *

Her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady. It surprised her how calm she was. Maybe it just hasn't hit her yet? After all, everything did happen very fast.

They had called Mozzie in the van and Neal informed him of their extra guest. Needless to say, Mozzie wasn't very pleased with the addition, but there was no turning back. After they picked up Neal's emergency bag and some supplies, they left June's house via the back door, leaving Ricky to wait in vain.

Everything was so well orchestrated, so secure, so accurate, so _clever_, that all of Sara's first instincts of shock and indignation had been replaced by awe.

It did, however, take a while to get used to her new ID: Sophia Moreau. She didn't know if Mozzie was pulling her leg by making her Neal's wife or it really was the only ID he could come up with on such short notice. She didn't worry too much about it though, he told her it was just a temporary one. He'd warned her it wasn't a waterproof ID and said they'd have to get new ones once they were save.

They had traveled by car, by boat, by train ánd by plane, all in two hours after they left Sterling Bosch.

And now here she was, on the third plane. A float plane with no one other than Mozzie flying it. Clenching her fists so tight that her hands were drained from their much needed blood, Sara put all her focus into her breathing. Steady and calm. Eyes shut tight and not thinking about the fact that they were bumpily flying miles above the ocean in a tiny, off the radar, plane.

She then felt something warm covering her cold hand and she lifted her right eye just enough to see that it was Neal's hand. He unclenched her hand, finger by finger, and put his hand on hers, intertwining their fingers. She allowed herself to fully open her eyes to meet his comforting smile.

She tried to show her gratefulness by smiling back, but her nausea put up a fight. She knew this wasn't easy for him. He didn't want to run. She remembered his stiff composure all the way to their second flight. His eyes were - and still are - filled with pain and she desperately wished there was another way for him.

Squeezing his hand gently, she offered him the same comfort as he did her, all the while trying her best to keep her stomach from flipping over.

"Almost there!" Mozzie suddenly shouted, as if he knew what they were thinking.

Sara glanced over at Mozzie - who had taken the whole pilot thing just a bit too seriously, it almost looked like he was wearing a Halloween costume - and remembered the relief she felt earlier that day when they had cleared the air between them. It was obvious that they had to get passed their differences since they were going to to be stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. At least they had one thing in common; they both cared a great deal for Neal.

So on the second plane ride, when Neal had finally fallen asleep, she gently released herself from his embrace and walked over to the empty seat next to Mozzie's. She had pulled off his headphone and he had opened his eyes in annoyance, "Hey!" he'd objected, "I was listening to that."

"Mozzie, can we talk?"

He read her serious expression and waved a hand as if to say "go ahead". She figured he knew this moment was inevitable as well and took a seat next to him.

"Remember when I said I liked you?"

"Please don't tell me you've developed a crush," he raised his hands as if to stop her, "Bob would be very upset if his friend's wife wasn't faithful."

Sara rolled her eyes, "I'm serious, Moz," she whispered, "for Neal."

Mozzie dropped his shoulders and gestured for her to continue.

"I meant what I said. For whatever reason, I do like you. You're loyal and honest… In your own way," she added with half a smile, "And smart, I mean.." gesturing to the plane, she referred to the entire escape strategy, "I honestly thought that we were getting along again in New York, but you've been giving me the cold shoulder ever since I saw you today. Did I do something wrong?"

Mozzie removed the headphone from his neck and put his music away, definitely trying to stall. And maybe - just childishly - attempting to push her buttons. He leaned back in his chair and sighed, "I _do_ like you Sara, that's the problem."

Sara looked up at that, "Don't tell me you've developed a crush," she quoted, "Sophia would be very upset if her husband's best friend wasn't faithful."

Mozzie let out a chuckle, "Touché."

Sara shared his grin for a moment, but let it fade after two seconds, and indicated for him to explain himself.

"Look, the life of a con is always changing. It's fast and unexpected and you never know what the next move is until it's suddenly there. For us to be able to move that fast, there needs to be space to move. No ties, no attachments, no nothing. Neal's first tie was the Suit, then came Mrs. Suit and June. But I was convinced that if needed, Neal could break those ties. Then you came and eventually you gave him hope again. Hope that he could maybe have the live he thought he'd always wanted, but the one that was ripped away from him."

Sara nodded as she was taking in his words, understanding his point of view. She didn't agree, of course, but she allowed herself to agree to disagree in silence.

"What about you? You can't tell me you don't care about all those people?"

Mozzie shrugged, "I.. may…have been tied _loosely_" Mozzie admitted carefully, "but I will never forget my strongest tie to Neal and our way of life."

Sara smiled and put her hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.

"I do like you, Sara," he admitted, "but I don't have to like it," he smiled.

Sara chuckled, "Thanks, Moz." She leaned in closer and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, earning an honest, shy smile from him. Something truly rare, she'd imagine.

She had stayed next to him during the remainder of the flight and they had talked about wines and good books.

* * *

Sara was brutally woken from her memories by a loud thud of the plane, causing her to jump from her seat and nearly fall to the floor. She quickly recomposed herself and used her free arm to press against the back of the seat in front of her to stop from falling on the floor.

"You alright?" Neal asked her worriedly, "Moz, please, a little heads up next time."

Sara nodded, "Mhm," she didn't trust herself to open her mouth just yet. Felt like her stomach was finally making that flip she so feared.

"Oops!" Mozzie's version of an apology sounded. "Alright, get ready for landing!"

Ten bumpy minutes later, Sara's pride at managing not to throw up had melted like snow on a hot summer day at the view of the island. It knocked her almost breathless and she all but pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. She's traveled before, sure. She's seen the most gorgeous places on Earth, sure.

But this was a whole new level of Paradise. Pure and untouched by humanity. Well, all, but the enormous condo on the beach - which was a work of art on it's own.

She looked at Neal and Mozzie whose faces were the objectifications of her emotions.

"I… It's _beautiful_," she managed to choke out.

It was a small island; she could see both ends curve to meet on the other side of the gray mountains that lay center on the island. The water's years of practice with ebb and flow had left a wonderful transition of transparent water turning white and effortlessly flowing in almost every shade of blue till it reached the blackness of the ocean.

The sand, white and untouched, invited her to explore and she jumped in joy only to take off to the house in a run, squealing like a little girl and not even caring.

"Come on, let's go!" she laughed and yelled back at the boys, who didn't wait for a second invitation.

* * *

(A week later)

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to suppress a yawn, Neal shuffled to the kitchen where he assumed all the noise was coming from. He came to a stop at the end of the hallway where the bedroom area met with the open kitchen and the living room. Neal lowered his hand from his eye and blinked once or twice before his eyes were adjusted to the sunlight that happily swam in their spacious, glass-walled condo. He narrowed his eyes, watching her every move, before he abruptly looked up and raised his eyebrows at the sudden bang of another cupboard being slammed shut.

"Argh!" He heard her grunt in frustration as she bent down to open a drawer and try to find whatever it was she was looking for. But after rummaging for literally two second, the drawer, too, faced a very painful fate as she slammed it shut.

Neal's confusion flowed away, taking the sleep with it in the process, and left enough room for his guilt to swim around.

Though the entire week they'd been on the island had felt like the cheesy happily-ever-after ending of an overrated B-movie, he knew he shouldn't have asked her to come with. It was selfish and stupid and he knew she'd be unhappy. She wasn't ready for a commitment like this and he shouldn't have forced her to make a decision like that. It wasn't fair. Hell, he didn't even know if _he_ was ready for a commitment this size.

He approached the kitchen island that separated the kitchen from the living room and took place on one of the stools, waiting for her to notice him.

As if on cue, Sara swiftly turned around - her body rigid with frustration - with her eyes closed and her hands rested on the back of her head. She let out a heavy sigh and opened her eyes, only to be caught by a scrutinizing Neal. She quickly dropped her arms while her eyes widened for a blip of a second and reverted them to the floor to recover herself before looking back up again to meet his gaze.

She took a faltered breath to settle her emotions and hoped he wouldn't notice her embarrassment at being caught in this state.

"There's no coffee," she tried, hoping this was a credible explanation, all the while knowing her effort was in vain.

"Moz'll be back soon with supplies." He didn't buy her excuse for a second, but went along with it anyway, stalling until they could talk about what really was going on.

Sara nodded slightly in response as she pressed herself into the kitchen counter even more, trying to make herself as small as she felt. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"That's okay, wasn't having a good night anyway."

"I know," Sara started and took Neal's surprised expression as a sign to explain, "you were talking in your sleep again."

"Again?" Neal frowned, "Hm, must still be getting used to the heat."

"Yeah, must be." Sara spat almost too sourly and lifted herself off the kitchen counter to walk away, "I'm going to take a shower."

Neal jumped off the stool and walked around the island to block Sara's exit, causing her to bump into him.

"Neal, wha-?"

"Talk to me, what's going on?"

She looked up at him and Neal saw how her annoyed frown melted and hesitation took over. He stared her down, letting her know he wasn't backing off and excuses wouldn't work.

"It's nothing," she shrugged and tried to maneuver around him.

Neal lifted his arm to stop her again and gently pulled her back to face him.

"C'mon," he encouraged, "no secrets, remember?"

At this, she sighed. She could hardly break her own first rule their relationship was based upon. Not that it wasn't broken before, but if they were going to try this again, she wasn't going to let something like this get in the way. And if it wasn't going to work out, she might as well know sooner rather than later.

She unwound her shoulders in defeat while letting out another heavy breath, "Last night, you were… You were dreaming about Kate, Neal. You mentioned her name in your sleep, more than once."

His eyes nearly popped and he unwittingly took a step backwards at her words, as if they were an actual blow to his stomach; painful and completely unexpected.

"Oh.." his voice was just as stripped from emotion as his expression.

"Yeah, '_Oh_'. Now will you please excuse me?" She took advantage of his motionless state and moved passed him to the hallway that led to their bedroom, hoping she could lock herself away in the bathroom for at least the next hour. She needed some alone time.

* * *

As Sara was brushing her hair, she realized that maybe being alone in the bathroom was not such a good idea. Or maybe it just wasn't a good idea to be 'alone' at the house, with Neal just a few feet away from her. All she could think about was Neal and how running away with him was looking more and more like a very bad choice. She needed to get away from the house, from Neal, to gain some perspective, but she freaking couldn't. He'd find her in a heartbeat on this godforsaken, pinhead island. And she had no idea how to get somewhere else - or where somewhere else even was, for that matter - cause Mozzie wouldn't tell them just yet.

She took another look at the time and sighed. She'd been in the bathroom for almost an hour and it was time to get out. She put down her brush, took another look at herself in the mirror and turned for the door.

Wearing nothing but a turquoise A-line sundress, she took a breath and headed for the kitchen, only to find Neal sitting at the same stool as he had an hour ago.

"Mozzie's been here?" She tried to sound casually as she tilted her head to refer to the brown paper bags on the kitchen island. She walked over to the kitchen counter, standing right across from Neal, with only the island in their midst, all the while very well aware of Neal's gaze following her every move.

"Yeah, but he had to leave quickly again."

Somewhere in the far back of her mind, Sara wondered if Mozzie had to leave to get their new ID's, maybe then she could actually leave if she wanted to. She lifted herself up on her toes to peek what's inside the bags, desperately hoping that wherever they where, there was good coffee available.

She spotted a bag of one of her favorite blends of coffee beans and eagerly pulled it out of the bag, "Oh, thank God!"

She turned around and walked over to the far left corner to where their coffee machine was situated. After filling the container with the beans she turned around to fill the water reservoir at the sink, only to bump into Neal, for the second time this morning.

"You really have to stop doing that," she complained as she rubbed her nose.

He smiled, "Sorry," and took a few steps back, leaning against the island.

Sara walked passed him to the sink, only to have Neal take hold of her arm and spin her around, landing her between his arms as he locked his fingers and rested his hands on her lower back.

"We need to talk," his voice was low and serious, kinda sultry. She hated it. But she liked it.

"We do?" she looked up at him, pushing the flutters away and focusing on trying to look innocently oblivious.

"Yes."

"Then talk."

Neal took a breath, "Okay," he paused as he let out his breath. Stalling, as he was still unsure how to go about this, "I understand that you're mad, bu-"

She shook her head and showed a half-smile that was too tired to grace her face any longer than two seconds, "No," she corrected him, "Neal, I'm not mad, I'm just..," she took a moment to find the right words. Or maybe to encourage herself to tell him how she feels, "I need to know that I didn't give everything up for nothing. I'm not… mad or jealous or anything, I understand that she was your 'great love' and all, but," she shrugged, figuring that it would be best to just get it over with, "I just need to know that 'this'," she pointed her index finger back and forth between them, referring to their relationship, "is worth more than what I gave up."

"You don't think it is?" Even Neal was surprised to hear the hurt in his own voice.

"I never really thought about it, but I guess I must have if I came with you, right? I just don't know… how... you feel?" listening to her own voice, Sara mentally kicked herself for sounding so vulnerable. So insecure. So unlike her.

Neal took a deep breath and with it, her words, letting them register as he was forming a proper reply. This was so unfamiliar, to him, to her and to this entire relationship. They've always been ones whose actions speak louder than words. It's safer that way and it's what they're grown used to, from themselves and from one another. But there was no 'acting' themselves out of this one. Nowhere to run and no one to turn to but each other. Well, there was Moz, but really… what riddle could he give them that would progress their relationship?

"Look, I don't know what 'this'," he quoted her and mimicked her reference to their relationship, "is, _exactly_. But I do know that this is by far the most real commitment I've ever made. And the scariest," he smiled as her expression immediately showed understanding at his words, "I also don't know where we'll stand a week from now, or a month, or in a year. I do know, however, that the only ending I see for us right now, is together." He concluded simply.

Sara looked up at that, a broad smile appearing and in it's process, brightening her eyes. "You mean that?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I do," he shrugged, "I'm not saying I never loved Kate, because I did, but I'm not calling her my 'greatest love' either. I also can't tell you that I don't think about her. She was the center of my world for a long period of time and then she was instantly ripped from my universe right in front of my eyes. It's going to take a while to fully get over that..." he went over his words in his head and realized how they must sound, "Or.. fully adjust to that reality, if that makes sense?"

Sara looked down, nodding her head. She understood, of course she did. He'd been through a traumatic event and it'd be unreal for him to not think about it from time to time. But then, why did the piercing needle of betrayal sting behind her eyes?

"I understand."

Neal put his hand under her chin and lifted her face up again, forcing her to meet his smiling blues, "But I am _not_ in love with her," he emphasized, "_or_ the idea of her. When I said I think about her, I didn't mean our relationship. I meant the role she had in my life," he then chuckled, "Trust me, you're all the woman I can handle."

Sara shared his chuckle and gently punched his shoulder while a rush of blood colored her cheeks a soft pink.

"So?" he asked, "worth it?"

"Kinda," she answered with a blasé shrug and smiled at her joke.

"Now, you really weren't mad? I think the cupboards might disagree," he tilted his head towards the counter, referring to the cupboards.

Sara looked down, embarrassment finding a way to her cheeks again, "Yeah, about that, I'm sorry. Think I got a little carried away," her eyes grew big with guilt as she looked up at him and silently asked for forgiveness.

"Oh, no complaint here," he lowered his voice as he leaned in, "it was kinda hot seeing you all fired up like that."

"Yeah?" she smiled, picking up on his mood instantly as she let their noses graze.

"Mhm," his low voice was thick with desire and he could feel his heart pick up the pace. Their lips grazed and he let out a faltered breath that gladly mingled with hers while she kept her lips away, teasingly.

"Huh, I might have to remember that for next time then."

"You do that," he mumbled and before Sara got a chance to reply and keep the tease going, he crashed his lips on hers and spun her around so her back was now against the island. He was eager to prove that his previous words had true meaning and it somewhat surprised him. They've had sex countless times and though every single time has brought him to ecstasy, he knew that this time it was going to be different. Better.

He knew she felt it too. There was something different about the way she was letting him take control. Sara has always been controlling - or trying to be - during the first part and gradually let Neal take over, but this time she didn't even try. It was like she was surrendering.

With a desperate need for fresh air, Neal broke the kiss and moved his lips to the back of her earlobe, leaving a trail of kisses as he moved to her neck.

Sara let her head fall back into her neck as she couldn't help but let out a soft moan at his tongue and teeth playing with her senses.

Neal put his hands around her waist and effortlessly picked her up and put her on the island. His hands searched for her dress' zipper as their lips met again in a dizzying frenzy.

"Mm," Sara started when she remembered something. She slowly pulled away an inch and opened her eyes only to close them a second later as Neal buried his face between her breasts. But then reason knocked on the door again and she gently pushed his head away, "Not here, Mozzie could walk in any second."

Neal looked up and smiled his all-knowing smile, "He won't be back for a while," he panted, "I told him we needed time to talk."

"You said he had to leave quickly?"

"He did," Neal shrugged and explained as a matter of fact, "cause we needed to talk."

Sara grinned at his ever remaining deviousness. Even if he could, she didn't want him to get rid of it. It was a part of him and she wanted it. She just needed to trust that he wouldn't use it against her. It surprised her that she almost could.

She didn't need much convincing and they soon picked up where they left off.

It was practically thirty seconds later that they were interrupted by the clearing of one's throat, "Clearly, the talk went well?"

The seconds that followed where those filled with awkward throat clearing and the readjusting of clothes and selves.

* * *

By the by... I haven't been keeping up with any spoilers so anything you read in my stories is purely speculation and/or imagination.

Please review!)

Soph

P.S: YES, I named Sara's new ID after ME! :P


	4. Author's Note

Hi guys!

Thank you all so much for the great reviews!

** JordynLynn:** First off, thank you for the kind words , but most of all thank you for the constructive criticism: One can only improve when known it's flaws.

However, I must say that any coincidences are exactly that: a coincidence.

I am a very busy girl; I have a fulltime internship in order to graduate Business School, two of my best friends are getting married and I'm co-planning with both of them and my weekends are filled with several social commitments. I barely have time for myself and when I do, I write.

I love reading books, but I seriously have no time for that at the moment, let alone fanfics (I really wish that weren't the case; I love reading).

I have read about four or five fics before I started my own very first fic (Hypnagogia), but I don't recall ever reading about a story similar to "Choices".

However, all of the above does not mean that there aren't stories out there that are similar to "Choices". I would just like to emphasize that I have _not_ copied anybody else's work (at least – and definitely – not intentional). Of course, that is what anyone would say, so I will understand if you'll believe whatever you choose to believe.

I would just like to ask you a favor: Could you please give me a link to the story/stories that you are referring to? I would love to check it out and look for any similarities myself.

Again, thank you for letting me know your thoughts, I honestly do appreciate them!

** every body else:** If _any_ of you feel the same way JodynLynn does (about any of my stories), _please_ let me know! I would hate to think any of you thought I indiscriminately copied someone else's work. Plagiarism is NOT something I appreciate. Thank you in advance!

Soph


	5. Chapter 4

Hello hello!

Thank you all for letting me know what you think and I am SO glad that you don't feel the same way. I was seriously doubting myself and so I think I kind of got demotivated a little (please, please, please JodynnLynn, do NOT take this as an attack or whatever! Like I said, I REALLY DO value you leaving your thoughts!).

And of course: Thank you SO much for the reviews!

Back to the story: this chapter picks up right where we left off. I've included the previous chapter's last paragraph to refresh your memories.

Please review!

Soph

* * *

_Sara smiled at his ever remaining deviousness. Even if it could, she didn't want him to get rid of it. It was a part of him and she wanted it. She just needed to trust that he wouldn't use it against her. It surprised her that she almost could._

_She didn't need much convincing and they soon picked up where they left off._

_It was practically thirty seconds later that they were interrupted by the clearing of one's throat, "Clearly, the talk went well?"_

_The seconds that followed where those filled with awkward throat clearing and the readjusting of clothes and selves. _

Sara cleared her throat, shot a quick – almost apologetic - smile towards Mozzie and turned around to continue filling the coffee machine's water reservoir.

"I was just about to make coffee, want some?"

"No, thank you, some of us have actually been up and running for more than an hour."

Neal and Sara eyed each other sideways, a meaningful look full of mischief being exchanged as they interpreted Mozzie's words their own way.

"Ugh, gross." Mozzie waved disapprovingly at the look.

"What's in the bag, Moz?" Neal asked, ignoring Mozzie's reaction and changing the subject.

Mozzie walked over the island and poured the contents of the bag on the table: Passports. Two, to be precise.

"Your new ID's, my finest work yet, this year. If I may say so," Mozzie took a moment to raise his eyebrows and grin in self-satisfaction. He handed the passports to their new respective owners.

"They will _sort of," _he emphasized his words with an estimating gesture of his hands, "tell you where we are."

Neal took a look at his new ID and raised his eyebrow questioningly at Mozzie, "Adam Deklan?"

Upon hearing Neal's new ID and reading her own new name, Sara gave a slight chuckle, "Evangeline Pira," she stated, and she too, gave Mozzie an amused look.

"Very subtle, Moz," Neal couldn't help but smirk at the ways his friends' mind works.

"Considering the circumstances, I thought it was appropriate," Mozzie explained and shrugged, taking in their amusement with an appreciating half smile.

"Please don't tell me you're Prometheus?" Neal asked hesitantly, kind of dreading the answer.

"No, I'm Bob," Mozzie said as a matter of factly, "when you don't let Suits into your life, what is hidden will remain hidden."

"I still don't know where we are," Sara brought up, "Last time I checked we were still on Earth, but nowhere near Parnassus."

"True," Mozzie agreed, "but _kinda_ false."

"Again with the riddles, Moz?" Neal's tone reflected the impatience he was feeling; he, too, was eager to know exactly where they were.

"We're on Isle Corycian, and as you may or may not know: The Corycian Nymphs were the sea maidens of the Cor-"

"Of the Corycian Cave of Mount Parnassus," Neal finished with a nod as he realized Mozzie's train of thoughts.

Mozzie pointed a finger at Neal, impressed by how quick he caught on, "Exactly."

"So… where exactly _is_ Isle Corycian?" Sara asked

"Somewhere between the Seychelles and Madagascar."

Both Neal and Sara's eyes popped a little at that. It was one thing to know you were away from home, it was another thing to know just exactly how far away you were.

Sara swallowed hard, "Wow…that's…"

"Far," Neal finished for her with the same blank, but almost terrified, look on his face.

"What?" Mozzie said defensively, "You both knew this was happening, you were _there_!"

"Relax, Moz, we're just getting used to the idea, that's all."

"Well, you were used to it just two hours ago, is all I'm saying."

He was right, they knew that. Plus, they had said goodbye to their old lives and had welcomed their new ones. But why did longing seem to pinch at their hearts? A longing for something that wasn't here; a home?

Neal didn't want to think about that. This was his home now. A deserted, pinhead Island somewhere in the Indian Ocean, thousands of miles away from New York. From Peter and Elizabeth. June. The FBI.

Neal ignored the dark shadow slowly creeping over his heart and decided to change the subject again, "So, Deklan and Pira, I understand. Adam and Evangeline?"

"Uhm, hello? Forbidden fruit? It's what got us here."

"Right."

Mozzie put his hand in his back pocket and pulled out a small stack of something in a brown envelope, "of course, Adam and Evangeline have credit cards, bank accounts, discount passes to their favorite stores and library passes."

He poured out the envelope's content on the island as well and gave Neal and Sara their new plastic lives. They took them over, hesitantly, but curious. Neal impressed and Sara, again, in awe.

"I must agree," Neal said, "definitely your finest work yet, this year," Neal sounded impressed.

"Thank you. And I, too, must agree."

"Does this mean we can… go out? Shopping? Go see _people_? _Live_?" Though Sara had intended for her words to come sarcastically, she couldn't entirely remove the hopeful undertone.

Neal gave a smile at the way she asked the questions, but soon refocused on Mozzie, waiting for him to answer.

Mozzie decided to keep them on edge just a little while longer while his glance continuingly changed between Neal's expectant gaze and Sara's.

"Mozzie!"

"Moz!"

"Alright, alright! Yes, you may live your lives. Carefree, might I add. You're welcome."

Sara couldn't stop the squeal that escaped from her throat and she quickly made her way to the other side of the island, where Mozzie was standing. She put her hand under his chin and placed a quick peck on his cheek, "Thank you!"

Neal watched the scene happen in front of him; Sara swiftly turned around and continued for their bedroom, giving Neal a quick wink in the process. He smiled back and shifted his attention to Mozzie, whose cheeks were left glowing and lips were left smiling. Though Mozzie was all but pleased when he had told him on the phone that Sara was coming along, Neal was glad to see that they were getting along again. Sara had told him they had a talk and Neal was glad: There was no way he could live in the middle of two of the most important people in his life, especially now.

Mozzie waited until Sara closed the bedroom door and then cleared his throat, "So, what are the plans with little miss Repo? You can take the boat if you need to…"

Neal narrowed his eyes, "When did you become the enabler of my relationship with Sara? Don't tell me there's another meaning to our new names?" Neal meant for the last sentence to be a joke, but somehow, actual concern slipped in his voice. Dealing with Mozzie could be tricky, the guy's mind had a life of it's own.

Mozzie chuckled, "Last time I checked there were still 7,047,217,517 people on this planet, and still growing by the second. I don't think you'll have to worry about _that_ meaning."

For some reason, relief washed through him at those words and Neal shared a smile, "Well, I'm gonna need some cash, did you fence the jewelry yet?"

Mozzie nodded in reply, "you'll find all you need in the cabin, combination is Versailles, eight years ago."

Neal found himself grinning at the memories and gave his friend an impressed look, "good one," he complimented with a sideways tilt of his head.

"Thank you."

"Thanks, Moz," Neal gestured to the passport and his entire new identity as he started moving towards the bedroom, "you need anything from the mainland?"

Mozzie pulled one of the brown paper bags – that were still on the kitchen island – towards him, "no, I'm good for tonight," and he pulled out a bottle of wine and a book – well it was more an old leathered hard cover pressing the loose, yellow papers together.

Neal gave a final nod adios and continued after Sara, towards their bedroom.

* * *

"That was nice, what Mozzie did," Sara said as they were stepping out of a local bistro, facing the breeze while the setting sun kept their skins comfortably warm. She put her arm through Neal's and he pulled her tighter. There was just something about walking on the boulevard with a view of nothing but a vastness of sea being cut off by a setting sun, that made them both feel just a little like maybe it was going to be okay. Maybe, they could live here forever and be happy. Maybe, this could really be their new home.

Neal gave a soft laugh, "I think he did that for his own piece of mind, Mozzie is very skeptical of new ID's."

"No, I mean everything. He arranged all of this and he actually almost kicked us out of the house to go on a date. It was nice."

"Yes, it was. You're starting to get under his skin," Neal mocked impression.

Sara smiled, ignoring his mocking tone, "I think I am. We should thank him, do something nice for him," Sara's gaze was already focusing on something in the distance as she was trying to think of what they could give to or do for Mozzie.

"What, you wanna set him up?" Neal joked.

Sara's eyes instantly brightened and she gave a short gasp, "Yes! We should do that!"

Horror took over Neals expression as he stopped them in the middle of the boulevard, standing now across from Sara, "No! No way, we should _not_ do that."

"Wha- It was your idea!"

"No, it wasn't. It was a bad joke, that's all."

"I think it's a great idea," Sara concluded.

Neal rolled his eyes while his throat gave sound to a groan, "why do you people always take the bad jokes seriously?" he mumbled.

"Oh, come on. It could be fun? I never set anybody up and I would never, but… we're here now, not there. We have these new lives and new places… New people. We should try new things."

Neal didn't know if Sara was trying to guilt him into this, but be it deliberate or not; it worked. He looked at her and saw noting but eagerness in her eyes. He recognized it as the same lust she would get with new cases. He could say no and they could continue facing the sunset together, but he knew she had already set her sights on this new project and she would pursue.

Finally, Neal sighed, "fine, but you're taking full responsibility. If Mozzie asks, I didn't know anyt-" he was cut off by Sara's lips crashing on his.

Dining tourists looking outside the window would see a young woman in a turquoise sundress with white flip-flops and a matching flower-clip on her head, keeping a strand of hair from falling in her face, kissing a young man wearing a white chino and a baby blue linen shirt, finishing his outfit with a stray hat.

Dining tourists looking outside the window would see a young, happy couple, most likely on their honeymoon, being lost in the moment – and each other – under the golden glow of the pink sunset.

No one would see the wanted Neal Caffrey or Sara Ellis from New York City.

* * *

Okay, so first off: Isle Corycian does not exist – at least, not to my knowledge – and is completely made up (the rest of it is true Greek mythology. Well… true mythology? You know what I mean!) The reason Neal and Sara's new ID's are "subtle":

Their first names are Adam and Evangeline: Adam and Eve. The first people, according to the Bible, Quran and Torah. They were sent to Earth as a punishment for eating the forbidden fruit and according to the books' respective religions, that's how all of us got here. I know I'm putting it bluntly and I mean no disrespect to any religion out there! I'm just trying to keep it short cause I think most of us already know the story, right?

Their last names are Deklan and Pira: Deucalion and Pyrrha. According to Greek mythology, Zeus was so angry with mankind that he loosed a deluge and Deucalion and Pyrrha were the only survivors because Prometheus (father of Deucalion) had advised his son to build a ship. After Zeus' deluge, Deucalion's ship landed on top of Mount Parnassus, making Deucalion and Pyrrha the only survivors and leaving them with the task to repopulate the planet. Again, this is very bluntly put, but it should make you understand this chapter.

Hope you liked it and please review!

Soph


	6. Chapter 5

*Peeks shyly around the corner* Hi?

So sorry for taking so long and I hate to repeat myself… so I won't!

To be honest with you guys, I hadn't planned on continuing this story. I was planning on writing one more finishing chapter and be done with it, but after reading the reviews, I couldn't…So here's another (tiny) chapter. Please note that with summer vacation and everything, I'll update even less regularly (sorry!)

Soph

* * *

The weeks that had gone by had allowed her to get fully used to her new ID. The fishermen, the market vendors, the local baker… they all knew her as Evangeline Pirra. The only person still calling her Sara was Neal, if you don't include her own voice of reason.

And so she didn't mean to respond. To turn around and face the voice that called her real name. She certainly did not mean to drop all the bags she was holding when she saw him, or to allow her blood to turn into ice.

And yet she did all the above.

"Well, I'll be damned! It really is the one and only Sara Ellis!"

It was like time had stopped everything and yet everyone kept moving. Like she was trapped in her own body and couldn't get out, no matter how badly she'd wish she could.

He moved the toothpick from the left corner of his mouth effortlessly to his right; a move she remembers so clearly as it flooded back to the surface of her memory, along with everything else that had happened ten years ago.

Sara took a big gulp of fresh air in a desperate attempt to calm her pounding heart, as he put his hands in his pockets and set course towards her. It felt like her eyes could pop out any second and somehow, through the gaze of confusion and fear, a portion of her mind could be glad she had decided to get fresh baguettes for breakfast today; so she hadn't actually eaten something that her sick stomach could throw up.

He placed his hand on her jawline; a symbol of affection in any normal circumstance, but Sara's skin seemed to be burning under his touch. His eyes never left hers and Sara could read the amusement he was experiencing at her shocked state. It disgusted and angered her and she was glad those emotions had finally reached the surface; at least anger was something she understood, something she could work with, as appose to the paralyzing fear that had controlled her body for the last minute.

"You look even more beautiful than you did ten years ago," if it hadn't been for the smirk and the devious grin, Sara would almost swear he spoke with affection.

This fact angered her even more and could feel the adrenaline shoot through her veins; it gave her control again. She pushed his hand away from her face and glared as viciously as she could.

To her dismay, but not to her surprise, he was not at all impressed. In fact, it amused him even more as he gave a chuckle and bowed his head slightly. When he looked up, all amusement was stripped and instead his face was rigid with a terrifying earnest, "Let's take a walk, shall we?"

It was not a question, not even a request; it was a demand and Sara knew all too well not to ignore it. She bent down to retrieve her bags when his heavy voice hit her like a whip: "Leave them."

Sara let go of the bags, as if he controlled her every movement, and stiffly got up, only to be escorted by him as they began their "walk".

"You're awfully quiet. It's been a while, Sara, ten years and you have nothing to say? I gotta say; I'm hurt."

"Screw you." To her credit; her words did come from the heart.

She suddenly felt his tight grip around her upper arm - it would bruise for sure -as he brusquely pulled her into an alley and pushed her against the wall. In an instant he used his free hand to grab her hair and pull her head back. It all happened so quick and with her body pressed tightly between the wall and his body, Sara had forgotten how to breathe. He lowered his head till his lips were now near her ear.

"You think I don't know, huh? _Evangeline_?" His voice was an urgent hiss right into her ear and she could feel his warm breath crash angrily against her skin. Somehow, it didn't surprise her one bit that he knew her new name. "Think I haven't been keeping tabs on you? That I don't know what you've been doing every single day for the past ten years? Think again, darling."

He rubbed his nose firmly against her cheek as he breathed in her scent and Sara could no longer suppress the objecting moan that had been lingering on her tongue ever since he grabbed her arm. Something inside her made her shut her eyes; maybe it was because she was trying not to cry, or maybe it was because she didn't want to see what was happening.

She didn't have much time to figure out which was the right reason as he all but gently cupped her jaw and pressed her cheeks inward with his thumb and index finger. His lips had found her ears again and he continued in the same hiss as before; "Here's what you're gonna do: You're gonna go onto your little boat and sail right back to your little island. You're gonna continue your day like you always have and then your gonna convince your little _boyfriend_ to come back to the mainland with you, understand?"

As painful as it was to move under his grasp, Sara tried to nod her head.

"You don't do as I say and loverboy loses a hand, got it?"

Sara shut her eyes again, but this time she knew exactly why; it was to clear her vision that had been clouded by the tears balancing on the brim. He took her tears as a confirmation and brutally let go of her. Her hands flew to her jaw to reduce some of the pain. She eyed him viciously out of the corner of her eyes and quickly got rid of the betraying tears.

"Well, go on now, wouldn't want loverboy to get worried, now would we?"

Sara swallowed hard and bitterly wondered where her gun was when she needed it. She clenched her fists and tightened her jaw, setting foot to where her bags were still sprawled out on the ground.

She should have killed him when she had the chance.

* * *

I'm a bit unsure about this chapter... Please leave your thoughts and concerns!

Soph


	7. Chapter 6

Hello!

Thank you so much for the reviews!

Just wanted to give you guys a heads up; this story is almost over. Just two (or three, tops) chapters.

* * *

"Tired of living the high life already?" Neal joked as he leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom and watched Sara's back as she went through her drawers.

She didn't mean to sniff, or to give the tears the green light to fall freely down her face for that matter, but that's exactly what happened. She had been able to control her anger and fury, had been able to push the fear down to the bottom of the emotional pyramid, because she had to put her mind over matter. She had to do whatever she could to protect Neal and Mozzie.

But hearing his voice and its' playful tone just reminded her of how much she was forced to give up. It caused her anger to boil up again and for her helplessness to reach the top. It was bad enough that he was back, but why did he have to be back now? And here? And what did he want with Neal?

Neal heard the faltered breath that followed her sniff and he didn't need to see her face to know she was crying. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked over to their bed, where one of Sara's bags was already half filled with her belongings.

"Sara?" It was impossible to miss the strained worry in his voice.

Finally, Sara stopped her frantic moving and bowed her head slightly, letting go of yet another heavy breath. She wiped her cheeks clean with the back of her hands and cleared her throat before turning sideways and facing Neal.

"Sara, what-?"

"Neal, I'm so sorry," her efforts in trying to keep her voice calm and controlled had been in vain, "I really messed up, he's back and I… I have to go."

Sara turned around to continue packing when Neal rushed over to her and spun her around. He put his hands on her upper arms and forced her eyes to meet his confused gaze. It took all he had to stay calm himself; he's never seen Sara this shaken up. This scared. This vulnerable.

It freaked him out.

"Sara, who's back? What happened?"

Finding comfort in his touch and a certain tranquility in his eyes, Sara drew a deep breath to steady her nerves. She let go of the breath while she put her hands over his arms and pulled him down with her to sit on the bed.

"I told you my sister ran away when I was 13?" A quick nod gave her the confirmation she needed to continue: "My parents died when I was 17 and suddenly I was alone in the world. All I wanted to do was find my sister and have family again. To not be alone. My search landed me in some wrong places and he got me out. His name is James Wilder and-"

"Wait," Neal stopped her suddenly, "thé James Wilder?"

"You know him?"

"Everybody knows him. He's scum, Sara, how on earth did you get involved with him?"

"Like I said, I got caught up with some bad people and he… he saved me, I guess. Or at least, that's what I thought. He told me he'd help me find my sister if I helped him out. I was his new partner in crime. He took me to all the fanciest gala's and parties you can imagine, where his mark would be at. After a while he got violent, though, or maybe he's always been and I was just too blind to see it. When I was about 19, I wanted out, but I knew he would never just let me go, so I thought of a way to use his own game plan against him. It worked, but he figured out I set him up and after a while he found me again," Sara paused as the memories brought back even more emotions that lumped up in her throat.

"What happened when he found you?" His voice was gentle but urgent. Though the curiosity in him was eager to find out the answer, there was something else overshadowing it. Fear, maybe? Or anger? Whatever happened back then, it wasn't good… Yes, he was definitely angry.

"I had him under gunshot, Neal, I could have killed him and it'd be self defense and the world would be free from him forever. But I couldn't."

"You were in love with him," Neal realized. Though it was a simple conclusion, the words' sour aftertaste made it sound like a betrayal.

"Yes." Sara admitted.

"Well, that explains a lot." Neal mumbled to himself, referring to her fiery bitterness towards him during their first few encounters.

Sara slumped her shoulders and tilted her head sideways, giving him the "Are you kidding me?" look.

Neal quickly shot her an apologetic look before worry took over his features again. "Why is he back? Wait, how did he find you in the first place?"

The memory of his voice hissing in her ear and his hands pressing her cheeks together, sent shivers down her spine. She remembers every little detail of the way he told her he'd been watching her all these years and she could almost feel her blood boiling with anger. At the same time, her heart raced with fear.

"He says he's been keeping tabs on me for the past ten years," she admitted somewhat embarrassed; she should have known, she should have suspected it! "Neal, I'm so sorry. Everything you and Mozzie have worked for, every careful and precise step and consideration… it's all for nothing. You're not save here anymore. After I leave, you have to move too. _Don't_ let him follow you."

"What are you talking about, after you leave?"

"I have to go, Neal. As long as I'm around you, neither of you is safe. You don't know how dangerous he is."

"I know he is, and you're not going to face him alone, are you insane?"

"Neal-"

"_No_, Sara, that's out of the question," it was only when he was done speaking that Neal realized he had raised his voice. "Why is he back now?"

"I don't know," she shrugged and hoped Neal wouldn't notice how she reverted her eyes to the bed for a second.

"Well, he must have said something, he wouldn't just let you know he's been following you and let you come back home-" Neal stopped himself as his quick brain made the connection. "Wait," he started, "he went through the trouble of finding you and telling you that he could and then he lets you go home? To me… It's me he wants, isn't it? Or Mozzie?"

Sara didn't give him much to work with as she quickly got up from the bed and from underneath his scrutinizing gaze, but the quick tightening of her jaw and the ever so subtle popping of her eyes told Neal that he had guessed right.

"So, what is it that he wants exactly?" He was not going to give up and followed Sara to the space between their bed and the glass doors leading to the beach.

"I honestly don't know, Neal. What I do know is that the longer we stay here, the more in danger we are, so lets just pack up and leave, please?"

"Not until you tell me what he wants."

"He told me to get you back to the mainland, tonight. I don't know why."

"So, let's go. Find out what he wants."

"No! No way, you're not getting anywhere near him. He's too dangerous."

"Sara-"

"No! This is how he works. He doesn't hurt his marks, Neal… he hurts their loved ones. He won't stop at nothing. Please, promise me you won't go after him?" she waited for the stubbornness in his eyes to fade and when it didn't she pleaded again: "_Please_?"

"Fine, I won't go after him."

"Thank you," and when her worry faded, heartbreak crashed into her like a tidal wave as she realized what she had to do.

"You can't come after me, either…"

* * *

Maybe she should have waited? Maybe she shouldn't have broken up with him a few hours ago in their bedroom on Isle Corycian. Maybe she should have waited till they reached the airport in Zanzibar to tell him they had to part ways.

Because now here she was again; in a float plain with Mozzie flying it. Here she was again feeling sick to the core again - and just because of Mozzie's flying. Here she was again sitting in the seat next to Neal.

But this time he couldn't comfort her. This time he couldn't take her hand in his and smile at her reassuringly. This time she was alone. Again.

What seemed an eternity later, Sara praised the lord she didn't believe in, to finally have solid ground under her feet again.

The three of them walked over to the flight board in silence and Sara knew then, that she should have waited. The tension was unbearable. And it, too, was her fault. This whole damn mess was her fault.

"Call me crazy, but I'm sensing a certain level of… What's the right word for 'icy'?" Mozzie, walking in between Neal and Sara, was wise enough not to say anything during the flight, but couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"It's nothing."

"It's fine."

Their simultaneous, not so reassuring, replies only confirmed Mozzie's suspicions.

"There it is: Mumbai, next flight leaves in an hour."

"My flight leaves in two hours." Sara said dryly, her eyes never leaving the board.

At this, Mozzie gave her a surprised look, somewhat expecting Sara to admit to her joke. When she didn't, however, Mozzie took another look at the board.

"Cairo? You know, Egypt is very overrated. All they have is the '_mystery of the pyramids'_" he used quotation marks to go along with his mocking tone, "but, I suppose I could make some calls. We could-

"Mozzie," Sara stopped him, "I'm going to Cairo alone."

Before Mozzie could give voice to his confusion, Neal took two steps towards her. "This is it then?"

Sara gave a slight nod, swallowing hard. "It's for the best."

"I think I forgot… hmph," Mozzie mumbled an excuse as he turned and walked away, giving them the privacy they needed.

"You don't have to do this alone, Sara. We can beat him together."

"How?"

"We'll contact Peter, put James on his radar, let the feds deal with him."

Sara shook her head firmly, "No, I'm not involving more people into this. It's bad enough he knows about you and Mozzie, I can't involve Peter too."

"He probably already knows about him."

"I'm hoping he's bluffing."

"What if he's not?"

"I don't know, but I have to figure this out on my own."

"Please, let's just-"

"No, Neal, you don't understand," she sounded desperate and in any other situation she would have cursed herself for it, but it didn't matter this time; if that's what it took to make him understand the gravity of this situation, she would beg if she had to, "you're not safe as long as you're with me, _please_ understand."

He just looked at her, trying to read the emotions he could recognize in her eyes and hoping there was enough doubt for him to play off of, but all he could find was determination.

"You know," he started, "I was being selfish when I asked you to run away with me," he admitted, leaving the request for her to do the same, unspoken, but apparent in his pleading eyes.

The look she gave him was one of affection, desperate to be given in to and its' familiarity almost made her feel calm again. "I _am_ being selfish, Neal," she said softly, answering his silent request, "I couldn't live through knowing _I_ was responsible if something happened to you."

She never knew her feelings for Neal had grown this much in the two months they spent on the island. It surprised her as much as realizing he probably felt the same. This could have worked. They could really have ended up together.

Knowing that they now, never could, felt like her throat was on fire

"Please, take care of yourself," she pleaded, "I…" her voice died off as her eyes searched for a reassurance the floor could not offer. When she looked up again, her lips found his in a kiss they knew would be their last.

* * *

I'm not happy with this chapter either. I must have reconsidered and rewritten everything like five times, but I seem to have lost my inspiration :( I just hope that it's not a complete turn off.

Would love to hear your thoughts!

Soph


	8. Chapter 7

So sorry for the delay guys! I think my muze went somewhere far, far, far away on vacation and she's only halfway back.

I'm going to try to update as many of my stories today or tomorrow (no guarantees though!).

Thank you for the reviews!

* * *

"I must admit, I didn't think you had the guts to show up."

The voice came from behind him and was accompanied by footsteps that he could only describe as confident and stubborn. Though he was startled by his sudden presence, Neal was determined not to show any of it. Without removing his hands from his pockets, Neal slowly lifted his bowed head and turned around on his heels to take in the figure that went along with the voice.

"It doesn't take guts to face someone you're not afraid of.'

An amused smile crept over James' face as he scanned Neal's demeanor up and down, somehow finding his composed and confident posture admirable.

"Your girlfriend seems to disagree with you, I strongly advice you to join her side. Speaking of which, where is our little Sara?"

Adrenaline made his heart beat faster and his fingers itch; right now, he would love nothing more than to wipe the smugness off his face.

But he couldn't and he couldn't let him know what was going on inside his mind. He clenched his hands in fists in his pockets and narrowed his eyes.

"You asked for me, I'm here. Sara has nothing to do with this."

"On the contrary, my friend, Sara is very integral. And I asked for both of you."

"Well, I'm all you get." His tone left no room discussion.

At this, James could do nothing but chuckle as he nodded his head, understanding the final tone of his sentence.

"We'll get right to business then."

"Please."

"I need you to do a job."

"I got that. What's the job?"

"You ever heard of the Palace Museum in Zanzibar?"

"Of course."

"You know it's story?"

"Built for the Sultan and his family, was used as government offices after the revolution, but is now the People's Palace and a museum."

"Very good, Caffrey," he emphasized his impression, making it sound mocking and insincere, "then you must also know the story of Princess Salme?"

"Daughter of Sultan Said, eloped to Hamburg with a German merchant," Neal started to get annoyed with James' stalling and made no effort to hide it in his tone, "can we get to the point now?" It wasn't that much a request.

"Watch it, Caffrey," James warned, making a point of not wanting to be told how to do his job, "don't forget who's in charge."

"I only agreed to a meet, I never agreed to the job." Neal reminded him.

"Really? Huh… Then you might find it interesting to know that the flight to Cairo was delayed," James let his sentence linger in the air and waited for Neal brain to make the connection. It didn't take long and he noticed how Neal's eyes popped just before they narrowed and how his jaw was suddenly clenched tight. "yeah, engine troubles or something, I don't know." He shrugged casually as he feigned annoyance towards the airline.

"What did you do?" His words were mere hisses escaping through his clenched jaw. This guy was really testing his patience and Neal didn't know how much longer he could still his itching fingers.

"Me? Nothing! Like I said, engine trouble. Now, do we have a deal?"

"I'm not making any deals with you until I know she's safe."

"Oh fret not, she's safe. For now. But I wouldn't test my patience any more than you already have. You know, just to be sure."

"Show me." Neal ordered, letting James' menacing playfulness glide right off his back.

James smiled again as he pulled out his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket. Without leaving Neal's watchful gaze, he pressed a few buttons and placed the phone over his ear.

"You have eyes on her? … Good, show me." He removed the phone from his ear and took a quick look at the screen before holding it out for Neal to watch.

On the screen, Neal recognized an annoyed Sara sitting in the airplane, flipping through the magazine without reading a single letter. Finally she let out a huff as she closed the magazine shut and reverted her eyes to the small window beside her. Her annoyance was without a doubt caused by the so called delay.

"There," James concluded as he put the phone back in his pocket, "you've seen she's safe. Can we continue our business now?"

"What do you need me to do?"

"Like you said, Princess Salme eloped to Germany, choosing love over wealth and power. She only took what she could see herself get away with in front of the guards, without raising suspicion. However, there was a set of jewelry she had inherited from her deceased mother that she could not imagine leaving without. It was her mother's dowry and it was made on special orders of the Sultan. He insisted there'd only be used Saudi gold and decorated with only emeralds to accentuate her eyes. The princess never returned back to the Palace and in Germany she lived happily with her husband. Until, she heard of her father's passing. She returned home, disguised as a maiden and buried the jewelry with her father, believing that he could give her mother the set in their after lives."

"You want me to rob a _grave_?"

"Mr. Caffrey, I thought at least you would appreciate the romance of it all."

"How do you about the jewelry?"

"Family stories."

"You're sending me to politically unstable Zanzibar, to steal from one of their most valued monuments, based on a bedtime story your grandmother used to tell you?"

"You have a sense of humor, Caffrey, I like that," James chuckled, "but no, the princess and the merchant, they're my great-great-grandparents."

"They must be so proud."

"They should be. So you see, the jewelry belongs to me."

"So go and get it."

"I am. I'm just using you for it."

"What makes you think I won't call the feds?"

"A little thing called 'The FBI's most wanted list'. I recall seeing a not so flattering version of your face on a poster. And I have Sara."

Neal's blood was boiling, though he didn't know what triggered it; was it the smug confidence, the amount of knowledge he had on him, that Sara was not safe, or the fact that he's right?

"Face it Neal, I win." He concluded bitterly, "So do your job, and do it right, and we part as unlikely friends. I might even let you have Sara."

He knew the last sentence was merely to taunt and test his patience, but Neal could feel himself slipping off the edge of control.

"You son of a-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" James stopped him with his index finger pointed warningly at him, reminding him of the leverage he had over Neal.

"Meet me tonight at the docks, I'll have a boat and tools ready for you. Goodbye for now, Mr. Caffrey."

Neal followed James' exit with a scrutinizing gaze and eventually saw him step into a black Mercedes with tinted windows.

"You can come out now."

Surely, only seconds later, Mozzie appeared from a near by café with a laptop in his hands and his headphones resting on his neck.

"You got it?"

"Everything. How does he make even the word 'princess' sound like it should be censored for children?"

"Thank you, Moz."

Mozzie gave a quick nod in appreciation, indication for Neal not to mention it, and he pointed towards Neal's hat: "Remember what you said when I got you that?"

"Did you get this at Toys"R"Us?" Neal remembered.

"And?"

"When would I ever need a recording hat?" He continued quoting himself.

"_And_?" Mozzie insisted and raised his eyeborws expectantly, indicating to be expecting a different reply.

"And: Thank you for the hat." Neal gave in.

Mozzie smiled complacent, "You're welcome."

"Let's go, we need to get to work."

* * *

The part about the jewelry and it being the princess' mother's dowry and being buried with her father is completely made up. The rest (about the princess eloping to Germany with the merchant) it true.

Thank you for reading and please leave your thoughts!

Soph


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